


The Woods Are Lovely, Dark and Deep

by partypaprika



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:13:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partypaprika/pseuds/partypaprika
Summary: Lost in the forest, Sara tries to find her way home and meets more than a few unusual strangers along the way.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jougetsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/gifts).



> For Jougetsu, I hope that you enjoy! Thank you so much to primeideal for beta-ing.

 As she walked, Sara allowed herself to appreciate the diversity of trees surrounding her. She’d never considered herself to be well-versed in New England flora, but it was impossible to grow up in the Northeast and not be able to identify a few trees. In terms of sheer variety, this forest really took the cake. A ways back, she’d come across a copse of birches, gray, white and yellow pressed near each other that extended on and on. Eventually it had yielded to plenty of white pines, their bark dark green and rough, intermingled between Douglas firs and red maples.

When Sara saw a large group of basswoods, she slowed down, letting the scaly ridges scratch against her fingers as she reached out. Just past the basswoods, there were some flowering dogwood trees, which she hadn’t seen since elementary school when a teacher taught them to identify the trees by their alligator hide trunk.

 With a sense of detachment, Sara noted that the trees were much thicker than she’d ever really seen before—the trunk bases were wide enough in some places that she would have needed at least two or three friends holding hands to circle the base completely. The trees here must have been old, very old, and it made the silence surrounding Sara feel weighted with age.

 It was only when Sara saw a clustering of dark purple berries and felt a vague twinge of hunger that she realized that the tree trunks had been getting progressively larger. That must have meant that she was heading into the forest, so she’d need to turn around. But, no, that wasn’t right. She’d passed some very large trees earlier, much thicker and taller than the trees that she saw now. So maybe she was walking out of the forest?

 Sara stopped and looked around. Suddenly, with crystal clarity, Sara knew that she was lost. Not just lost on an afternoon walk, but well and truly, now would be the time to panic, lost.

 Sara took a couple deep breaths and turned, trying to place where she was. Nothing revealed any clues. The light had the same dappled quality no matter which way she looked. When Sara tried to think back to where she’d entered the forest, she couldn’t think of anything. It was a big blank space. At some point, she must have not been walking in the forest, because she had a life, she’d graduated college, she lived with her parents, she’d been trying to find a job like college graduates did—she did things outside of walking in a forest. But she couldn’t remember when the switch had been made. It felt like Sara had been walking for days or weeks, just passing through this dense and deep forest.

 Sara had always been told that if she got lost, to stop and wait for someone to find her. But something deep inside of Sara said that no one was coming for her. She’d been walking for at least half a day and she’d never passed anyone in all that time. Sara had only passed trees, trees and more trees. No other people around.

 With panic rising, Sara tried to take inventory of the situation. She was in a forest, completely lost. She checked her pockets where she found a half-eaten bag of M&Ms, a paperclip, some lint and three pennies. 

 “Alright,” Sara said out-loud, just to hear something in the silence. Her voice sounded small but Sara forced herself to sound cheerful, as if she was a counselor back at summer camp. “First thing, I need to find some water. Let’s go on a hunt for a water source.”

 No direction seemed to be any better than the last, so Sara picked one at random and started walking. Now that Sara was aware of her situation, time seemed to pass more slowly. When Sara discovered that her watch had stopped working, she finally allowed herself to sit down and take a break.

 Sara took a seat on the roots of a large sugar maple tree, its slightly bitter scent helping her to wake up. Sara pulled out the bag of M&Ms and wondered if she should have a few to try and raise her spirits. But every M&M she ate now would be one more that she couldn’t eat later when she was really hungry.

 While Sara debated with herself, a beetle crawled out of a nearby pile of leaves and onto Sara’s shoe. Its polished black front wings contrasted with Sara’s worn converses and for a few minutes, Sara let herself be distracted by the beetle gently exploring its new terrain. When the beetle finally climbed back onto the ground, Sara forced herself to stand up and start walking again.

 Sara kept alert for any sounds of any fellow forest-visitors or running water, but heard neither. Eventually, the routine workings of the forest—the smell of decay, the soft crunch of decaying leaves beneath Sara’s feet, the far off sounds of birds whistling to each other—lulled Sara into a sense of calm. She wasn’t sure how long she walked for, how much farther she’d gone into the forest, when nearby rustling startled Sara out of her complacency.

 “Hello?” Sara said loudly. “Is anyone there?”

 Complete silence. Sara tried again. “Hello?” Again, no response so Sara started walking again. After a few minutes, the rustling started up again. This time, Sara could definitely tell that someone or something was moving around. It was too loud and deliberate to just be the wind.

 When no one responded, Sara began walking again, a prickling feeling at the back of her neck. Although she knew it was irrational, Sara picked up her pace.

 The next that the rustling came, Sara paused for a second, flight and flight instincts warring. In that second, a large silver dog—no, wolf—emerged from behind one of the trees. Sara had never had occasion to see anything closer to a wolf than a husky, but the animal that easily came up to half of Sara’s height, with a shaggy gray mane and large incisors, couldn’t be anything but one.

 For a moment, the wolf regarded Sara curiously. Then, it paused and sniffed the air a few times, as if scenting a change in the wind. When it turned back to Sara, its mane stood erect and the wolf’s eyes glowed a deep and dark red. Without any further warning, the wolf bared its incisors and tensed up as if to jump. Sara didn’t wait to find out if the wolf planned to follow through. She turned and bolted, running faster than she had ever run before through the forest.

 

 

 

 

When her brain caught up to the situation, Sara realized that she wasn’t sure that running away was what one was supposed to do when faced with a dangerous wolf. Couldn’t it outrun her? Should she have stayed still and hoped it didn’t see her as a threat? Or was that sharks?

It doesn’t matter, Sara told herself, she’d made her decision. Now she just had to hope that it was the right one. For a few wild minutes, Sara kept going as fast as her legs would let her. She pushed past branches and bushes until she tripped over a tree root into a large clearing.

Sara’s heart pounded heavily while she tried to scramble up, certain that the wolf was about to descend on her.  Sara could almost the feel of the wolf’s incisors sinking into her skin, tearing it apart.

But, surprisingly, no wolf appeared. There weren’t any sounds of something large headed in Sara’s direction. Just the faint wheezing of Sara’s rapid breathing and the pounding of Sara’s pulse in her ears.

After a minute, Sara cautiously stood up. She waited a minute, head slightly cocked, to see if she could hear the wolf coming. When Sara felt certain that the wolf wasn’t going to jump out her, she sank back down onto the ground, utter relief flooding through her.

Sara lay there for a while, just enjoying each breath and abstractly cataloguing the tender spots where she’d hit the ground, until she picked up a new sound. The breeze carried in the occasional thud of something hitting a tree trunk. The longer that she listened to it, the more she was convinced that it occurred too regularly to be some natural forest phenomenon.

When Sara felt sufficiently rejuvenated, she stood up and started walking in the direction of the noise. As she walked, she began to discern the sound of heavy thudding, followed by the faint sounds of voices.

Sara took off, jogging in the direction that the noise came from until she came into a large clearing filled with twenty or thirty people, all wearing some variant on suspenders over rough long-sleeve button down shirts, dark pants and boots. The clearing held evidence of a large camp, with bedrolls laid out amongst small tents and tarps. Near the far edge of the clearing, a fire roared, emitting a hazy layer of smoke.

At first, no one noticed Sara. There were people walking back and forth, shouting to each other and cheering on what appeared to be a competitive whistling competition over at the firepit. Sara blended right into the crowd.

“Excuse me,” Sara said loudly a few times, trying to get someone’s attention.

“Oi, another young’un to help out,” a man called out near Sara. He had a long, gaunt face and a drooping mustache that hung over his wide smile. He wore a hat not altogether unlike Smokey the Bear’s.

“Uh, sorry?” Sara said. “I’m sorry, I’m lost and trying to get home. Do you know where the nearest phone is?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, girl,” the man said. “But come on, right this way.”

Before Sara could protest, she found the man shepherding her the same direction as everyone else seemed to be heading. As she approached the fire pit, she realized that it had a giant pot over it, surrounded by a large crowd. Around the pot, there was a large man with a mustache resembling that of a walrus was whistling back and forth with an older woman, stocky herself, her hair in a braid stretching past her waist. They both looked irritated as one would pause and whistle some complicated melody. The other would listen and then replicate it, before making up their own tune.

When Sara tried to speak, Droopy Mustache shushed her, but Sara’s immediate panic had largely faded once she had found the camp, so she decided to just watch and see what happened next. The whistling competition went on for some time and Droopy Mustache began providing commentary.

“Annie’s currently our month-long whistling champion,” he whispered. “She’s got a mighty fine head for tunes.” Annie’s next whistling tune featured an extended high note arch, which earned a loud series of cheers from the audience.

“The challenger is Buck,” Droopy Mustache said. “It’s his third challenge to Annie—he won it a few times earlier this summer, so there’s a chance today could be the day Annie loses the crown.”

Annie gave a particularly high whistle and held the note for almost a full minute. Sara was honest-to-god impressed. “Wow,” she said to Droopy Mustache. Droopy Mustache nodded in agreement. When Buck went, he petered out around the thirty second mark and sighed in resignation as a large whoop went up around the crowd.

Annie didn’t look any happier as she turned and gave the crowd a firm glare, but the corners of her lips twitched slightly.

“Congratulations to Annie, our whistling champion once again!” Droopy Mustache said loudly to the crowd. Some of the people in the circle began chanting Annie’s name and Annie turned her glare on Droopy Mustache. “And now everyone, we’ve got to get this shipment out by tomorrow, so onto work!”

Everyone quickly started heading out of the clearing into the woods, marching farther into the forest until they came to another large clearing, this one man-made with a huge pile of logs at one end. The logs had been freshly cut, but Sara didn’t see any equipment around which could have been used.

“What’s going on?” Sara said to Droopy Mustache.

Droopy Mustache gave her an odd look. “We’re cutting down trees,” he said. “Come on, everyone’s about to start.”

Before Sara could ask _how_ they were going to start, she saw Annie, just ahead of them and in front of a large tree, open her mouth and take a deep breath in. She then began whistling, but everyone else in the camp quickly joined in. It was a quick and spirited melody and more than a few people began singing along.

 

_We’re lumberjacks who whistle_

_We whistle the work away_

_We’re lumberjacks who whistle_

_And we whistle all day_

_We always work hard_

_To make our haul_

_And we’re always on guard_

_For when they fall_

 

And as Sara watched in amazement, she saw strong cuts begin to appear in the trees, as if someone was in the process of cutting them down. But there was no one there! Everyone else continued as if this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary and when Sara turned to ask Droopy Mustache, she saw that he was whistling along as well. He gave Sara a meaningful look. Sara thought about it for a second and mentally shrugged before joining in as well.

Sara wasn’t a particularly accomplished whistler, but her whistling seemed stronger than it normally did, just as loud and on-key as the other lumberjacks around. As Sara kept whistling, a nearby tree almost finished and began to bend backwards, precariously close to falling.

“Timber!” someone shouted and then the tree tipped over, crashing through the underbrush as it hit the ground. Sara had never seen a tree fall in real life—it was amazing. And then, just when Sara didn’t think that she could be more surprised, the tree lifted up, still horizontal and slowly moved itself over to the far pile of logs, neatly dodging all of the lumberjacks who barely registered the log’s presence.

“Wow,” Sara said. This time when Sara joined back in the whistling, she whistled as loudly as she could.

The group kept whistling and singing for a long time. Occasionally, Droopy Mustache would gesture for Sara to come take a break or offer her a compliment on some particularly strong whistling or singing that she’d done. Sara wasn’t sure what constituted strong whistling, but she felt pleased about the compliments all the same.

When Droopy Mustache announced that it was time for lunch, Sara realized that she was ravenous. A large pot of stew had been set up in the clearing and the lumberjacks all helped themselves to a bowl of it and some bread, which Sara happily accepted.

She took a seat next to Annie in the haphazard circles that had sprung up while the lumberjacks ate. “You’re really good at whistling,” Sara said.

Annie turned bright red. “Aw, ain’t much to it,” she said, mumbling into her food.

Sara munched on her bread while she looked at what was now a massive piling of logs. “How does the whistling work?” Sara asked.

Annie looked confused. “What d’ya mean?”

“With the cutting and moving of the trees?” Sara said.

“It’s just the whistling,” Annie said.

Sara opened her mouth to explain that she’d seen plenty of people whistle before and none of them had ever cut down trees when she looked down and realized that there was a large raccoon standing next to her. Sara froze in surprise, accidentally dropping her bread, which the raccoon immediately went for.

“No, wait,” Sara said, futilely. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to Annie. “I know that you’re not supposed to feed the animals.”

Annie just shrugged. “I don’t mind it none. And I think that raccoon is probably grateful.” It was a pretty cute raccoon, its dark eyes just watching Sara and her bread patiently. Sara watched it for a few minutes as it watched her and then dropped the rest of her bread, which the raccoon gobbled up. When a piercing whistle came through the camp, Annie stood up, so Sara gulped down the rest of her stew and followed Annie to drop her bowl off and head over back to their position near the trees.

The lumberjacks worked for the rest of the day, finishing up just as the sun started to set. Sara felt exhausted, but in a good way, ready for something to eat and then to sleep for a nice, long while.

Back at the main camp, everyone was joking and goofing off as dinner was served. Sara didn’t even mind that it was essentially the same thing as lunch, just happy to get something warm and delicious, as everyone sat around the campfire trading tall tales and stories.

By the time that Sara finished dinner, she was yawning into her bowl. She felt more than a little uncertain about the prospect of figuring out where to sleep, but Droopy Mustache came around with an extra roll of bedding and a blanket.

He smiled and ruffled Sara’s hair when she tried to thank him. “Always got to watch out for the young’uns,” he said. “We were all young once.”

Sara found an open spot not far from the fire pit and laid out the bedroll. When Sara laid down, a dark furry face appeared in front of her, causing Sara to scramble up to a sitting position. Heart beating rapidly, Sara realized that it was just the raccoon from earlier. It watched her for a few seconds and then crawled on top of Sara’s blanket next to her feet and then sat down.

The two of them watched each other for a while and then Sara decided that she was too tired to deal with anything else. “I’m going to bed,” Sara said to the raccoon, although obviously it was for Sara’s benefit rather than the raccoon’s. “When you go foraging in the night, please don’t forage my feet.” And with that, Sara laid back down. Within a few minutes, she was fast asleep.

 

 

Sara woke up with the rest of the camp the next morning, sometime just after dawn. Sara hadn’t seen this side of sunrise in years, only catching glimpses of it during all-nighters pulled during college. The sunrise was gorgeous, especially rising up over the trees, and Sara took a few minutes to appreciate it as she rolled up her bedroll and blanket. Her raccoon companion had disappeared sometime during the night, but if it had been up to any mischief, Sara had slept through it.

As she headed towards the fire pit where she could smell oatmeal, she found Droopy Mustache. “I wanted to give this back to you,” Sara said. “I think I really need to get on my way home this morning, but I really appreciate your hospitality.”

“Of course,” Droopy Mustache said. “And we appreciate your fine whistling.”

Sara couldn’t help but smile at that. “I’m not sure exactly where I am. Do you know which way is the nearest road?”

Droopy Mustache frowned. “There probably isn’t a road for at least twenty miles,” he said. Sara’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t seen any cars that would have been able to get Sara twenty miles in a reasonable amount of time. “But,” he said thoughtfully after a pause, “everything comes in and out of here by river. We can just send you down river, like one of the log shipments.”

“Uh,” Sara said, trying to think. “Sure? Why not?”

And that was how Sara found herself climbing onto a midsize raft resting in a river not far from the work site. Droopy Mustache explained how Sara would probably travel for a half-day downstream on the river before she hit the nearest town and the sawmill. Annie stood next to him, looking as gruff as ever.

“Be careful,” Annie said firmly before quickly turning and disappearing.

“You ready?” Droopy Mustache asked. Sara clutched at the raft below her. She didn’t feel particularly ready.

“Yes,” Sara said.

“Good luck,” Droopy Mustache said, giving Sara a wide smile. “We sure appreciated having you here. Come back and visit sometime!” And then he untied the rope holding the raft to the banks of the river.

Before the raft took off, Sara’s raccoon friend appeared on the edge of the bank and took a flying jump, landing next to Sara on the raft.

“Well, hello there,” Sara said, laughing a little bit. “And goodbye!” she said, waving to Droopy Mustache. “Bye!”

 

 

 

The river moved at a leisurely pace, gently pushing Sara and the raccoon downstream in the manner of a lazy Sunday morning, but Sara found that she didn’t mind. The water was cold but clear and Sara could look down and see fish swimming below her, completely undisturbed in their lives. Eventually Sara stretched out and let the sun warm her while her muscles appreciated the day of rest.

Sara’s raccoon companion appeared to be doing the same. It sprawled out next to Sara on the raft, its eyes firmly closed shut and, to all outside appearances, sleeping.

The river moved past densely packed forests with only the occasional sign of wildlife. A few times, Sara almost thought that she saw the faint gleam of a silver mane or a dark muzzle in the shadows of the woods, but when she tried to look closer, it always appeared to be a trick of her eyes.

It must have been almost noon when Sara saw another thick smear of silver in the trees out of the corner of her eyes. She turned to try and get a better glimpse of it, this time almost certain that she wasn’t imagining it, when the voice spoke.

“What exactly are you looking for?” a higher pitched male voice said. Sara whipped her head around to try and figure out where the voice was coming from and saw that it was the raccoon who was speaking.

There was a long moment where Sara tried to figure out how the voice could be coming from the raccoon, when the raccoon spoke again. “Is it something interesting at least?”

At that, Sara freaked out: she jumped up and tried to step back, forgetting for a moment that she was on a raft and not solid ground. There was a moment of realization as Sara’s foot sank into the water and then Sara tipped back, straight into the river.

The cold shocked Sara’s system and she couldn’t move for a second, quickly descending down into the water, but then her reflexes kicked in and Sara started kicking her legs and pushing up. When she surfaced, the raft was already several meters away. Sara tried swimming after it, but she was no match for the river’s current, lazy or not, and she groaned as it floated away.

After treading water for a few seconds, Sara turned and swam towards the nearest bank of the river. When she hauled herself out, she noticed that the pesky raccoon had apparently decided to jump ship as well and had already made it to land where it was waiting for her.

Sara stood there, dripping, for a few minutes while she stared at the raccoon. It met her eyes steadily, bedraggled as it too was.

“Whoops?” the raccoon said eventually.

“So that wasn’t my imagination,” Sara said. “You can talk.”

“Well, of course,” the raccoon said, it shook itself out, water spattering in all directions. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re a raccoon,” Sara said.

“What difference does that make?” the raccoon said. “You talk and you’re a human. You don’t see me holding it against you.”

Sara sighed. Well, the raft was as good as gone and they were lost. “Alright,” Sara said. “So you’re a raccoon that can talk. Do you have a name?”

The raccoon stood up straight. “I apologize for my oversight. I’m Huck, at your service.” For a raccoon, it sounded more than a little sarcastic, but Sara decided to let it go.

“I’m Sara,” Sara said. By now, Sara was shivering due to the cold. She looked around as if a towel would magically appear. “Any chance that you know where I could find a towel around here?”

Huck gave Sara a sheepish look. “Sorry, I’m not all too familiar with this place.”

Sara stood, feeling a little sorry for herself before she took a deep calming breath and forced herself to focus on the issue at hand. She walked back over to the edge of the bank and tried to see downstream. There wasn’t much to see, just the river and trees, extending as far as she could make out.

When Sara turned around, Huck was crouched next to her. “I don’t suppose you can see where we’re supposed to be going,” Sara said.

Huck leapt out of his crouch, up onto Sara’s shoulder. He stood up on her shoulder and peered out. “Let’s see, with my far-seeing sight, I can see…a forest. And some more forest,” he said.

“You know, if you wouldn’t be able to see any farther than me, you could have just said so,” Sara said.

“Where would have been the fun in that?” Huck said. “Although, if I were a betting raccoon, I’d say that the town is probably a few miles away on foot. We couldn’t have been too far based on the lumberjacks’ direction.”

“Great, my thoughts exactly,” Sara said. Huck leapt off of Sara’s shoulders back onto the ground. “As long as we keep the river on our left, we shouldn’t get too lost. Alright, ready to go?”

Huck gave her a slightly withering look, which Sara interpreted as meaning that of course he was ready, so Sara started walking.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Sara tried to think of a way to ask if Huck had always talked or even if all animals talked here without sounding rude. Eventually she just let the matter lie.

“So why did you decide to follow me?” Sara asked after she got bored of the sound of leaves crunching loudly below her feet.

“I mean, you did give me food,” Huck said. Sara looked over, wondering if Huck was being facetious, but he looked perfectly serious. Although Sara would be the first to admit that trying to decipher a raccoon’s emotions was probably an art that would take some time to master.

“I don’t want to be rude here, because I am glad for the company,” Sara said, silently thinking that arriving at the settlement via the raft on the original plan, not getting soaked in a freezing river or having to walk, seemed slightly preferable to any company. “But do you follow everyone who feeds you?”

Huck gave a small bark of laughter. “As a matter of fact, I do not. I generally travel on my own, but you looked like you needed a companion. You also happened to look like a reasonable provider of food.”

As far as life purposes went, it wasn’t a bad one.

 

 

The two of them walked for some time. Huck and Sara made occasional conversation, but Huck seemed content with only the sounds of the forest accompanying them. It made for a nice change of pace. At home, Sara’s parents constantly wanted to talk about staying home and finding a job nearby. She knew that they meant well, but sometimes it was nice to not be reminded of how far she was from achieving her goals.

“Wait,” Huck said suddenly. Sara immediately stopped.

“What is it?” she said.

Huck’s nose twitched a few times and his ears flared out. “I think that we must be close to the settlement.”

Sara fist-pumped. “Thank god,” she said fervently. “I am ready to stop walking.” She did a little dance of joy, boogie-ing her way around Huck, who started laughing. “Alright, Huck, lead on!”

Huck turned away from the river and led them into the forest. Every few minutes, he stopped and listened before adjusting their course. Sara allowed herself to fantasize as they walked—maybe this town would have a telephone and she could call her parents, who must have been so worried by now. Or at least they’d have more food, because Sara was starting to get a little hungry after their busy morning. They might even have showers available, although Sara tried not to get her hopes up.

But, when the trees abruptly ended, leading to open-wide rolling countryside, set up for farming. Sara didn’t see any settlements within walking distance, but where there was farming, there were people.

“Well, this is a sudden change,” Sara said. “Farming. Do you think that there’s a town around here? What was it that you heard earlier?

Huck made a dismissive noise and then pointed off to the left, before bounding forward, leaving Sara to run after him. Quickly, Sara realized that he was running towards a large group of forty to fifty people just down the hill. They were grouped in a circle with numerous large piles of construction materials behind them.

As Sara and Huck got closer, Sara realized that the circle was grouped around a small woman, who could barely have been older than Sara. She wore a purple and cream calico dress, trimmed with plum satin ribbon, with a bustle extending behind her. Over her dress, she wore a high collared jacket, the purple dark against her skin. The people surrounding here also appeared to be wearing similar clothing: the women in carefully pressed calico and muslin dresses; the men with light overcoats, falling gracefully around them, just revealing a hint of light colored collars beneath their surface.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a limited amount of time,” the woman said, her voice warm and lower pitched than Sara had expected. “I expect that we have but a few hours before we depart. We have quite a lot to complete in that time, so I will leave you to your tasks.”

The group instantly split up and headed towards the construction materials behind them.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” the woman said coming towards Sara and Huck, looking appalled.

Sara automatically searched for an excuse to explain herself but then realized that she had nothing to explain. “Sorry,” Sara said, looking down at Huck. He wore an equally confused expression—or at least Sara hoped he did. “But we’re not exactly sure what you’re talking about. We just arrived here.”

At that the woman stopped and did a double-take, examining them as if she hadn’t really seen them before. After a second, her face split into a grin and she laughed, a bright sound that made Sara also smile.

“I do apologize,” the woman said. “I’m Della. Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand and Sara took it, but the woman did a small curtsy instead of shaking Sara’s hand. Sara stood there awkwardly.

“You must excuse us,” Della said. “We’ve fallen quite behind and the train is coming tonight.”

“Train?” Sara said, hope starting to well within her. “A train is coming in tonight?”

“Of course,” Della said.

“Can we help?” Sara said. Huck looked up at Sara. “We would love to be of assistance.”

Della looked delighted. “But of course, we would be enormously appreciative of any assistance that you might provide.” Della turned as if to gesture, before she frowned. “Jerimiah,” Della said. “Jerimiah! You’re hammering that incorrectly—I am so sorry I have to straighten this out before this turns into a further mess, but lend a hand wherever you can. Any group here would be thankful for your help.” And then she turned and headed back into the fray of things where a group of men and women were hammering in a set of long steel rails, which would presumably be the actual train tracks.

“I hate to be the one to sink your plans here, but I don’t know if we should be helping,” Huck said in a half-whisper to Sara.

Sara gave Huck a skeptical look. “A train is coming and we need to get on it,” she said. “I need to get to a town so that I can get home.”

Huck blinked at Sara. “Ok, Miss-know-it-all, where is the train coming from?”

“What?” Sara said.

“Where is the train coming from?” Huck said again, patiently.

Sara opened her mouth to respond and then realized she really didn’t know. She scanned the surrounding countryside, but if anything, it brought up more questions. There were no railways near them at all. Where did Della expect the train to come from? Where had all these people come from?

“Huh,” Sara said, after a few minutes. Huck looked absolutely triumphant. “Ok, you’re right,” Sara said. “I have no idea where this train is coming from.”

“Yeah, these people are probably crazy,” Huck said. “I suggest that we go back into the forest and head down river.”

“No,” Sara said. “I mean, yes, they’re probably crazy. But they had to come from somewhere. Maybe it isn’t all that far away.”

Huck snorted dismissively. Sara tried to remind herself that she was a human—shouldn’t she have the upper hand here? Huck was a raccoon. Surprisingly, it wasn’t nearly as convincing as she would have liked it to be. Even though she’d only known Huck for a few hours, or a day if they went all the way back to the camp, she still found herself nervous about his reaction. Sara took a deep breath.

“Ok, I think that we should still stay for a little and talk to them. They’ve got to know how to get to the nearest town, regardless of whether or not this mystery train exists.”

Huck shrugged. “I don’t mind helping, just as long as you don’t get your hopes up.”

Sara wanted to argue that she hadn’t gotten her hopes up, but of course, she already had.

“Alright, I concede the point,” Sara said. “But they seem pretty convinced a train is going to come.” Huck didn’t argue the point though, even when Sara pointedly went over to the construction area and asked how she could help. And that was how Sara found herself and a raccoon that she vaguely thought of as a comrade-in-arms, carrying ballast for the better part of an afternoon.

For what seemed like a daunting task, Della’s group made quick progress on the tracks, Della herself running between groups to provide instructions.  Sara quickly became used to Della’s low pitched voice carrying across the group. Sara lost count of how many times she heard a variant on “Belinda, I said that you had to pack the ballast around the ties!” or “George, I already showed you how to line up the tracks properly, end to end!” 

Under Della’s direction, the tracks were built out in what felt like record time, with lines of steel running almost completely out of sight in both directions. Before Sara’s very eyes, she watched a group of people assemble the frame for a small building that they pulled up, before starting on the walls. A small platform sprung up next to it, as well as a small sign on the side of the building that read “Marble Orchard.”

By the time that the sun began setting, Sara’s muscles ached, but the station and tracks had been completed. Although Della’s group assembled themselves on the platform, it seemed unreasonable to hope that a train would actually appear.

“They couldn’t have actually built the train tracks out to connect with a real line. Right?” Sara asked Huck in a half whisper.

Huck frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t say that it’s impossible,” he started.

“What do you mean that you wouldn’t say that it’s impossible?” Sara said. “Shouldn’t that technically be impossible? If they don’t connect it with an existing track, then a train can’t access it.”

“We don’t care much for technicalities here,” Della’s voice said from behind them. Sara and Huck both jumped. Della smiled at both of them and then gestured slightly with her hand to the left of the station.

In the dimming light of the setting sun, Sara could have almost sworn that she saw a glint of light. She immediately dismissed it out-of-hand, but then the glint happened again, this time steadier, ultimately resolving into a pair of headlights, attached to a large steam train. Sara’s mouth dropped open.

“It’s a train,” Sara said. In the distance, the train conductor blew the train whistle, sending shivers down Sara’s back. She looked down at Huck, who looked as amazed as Sara felt.

“Of course it’s a train. How else will we get to our destination?” Della said.

The train was closer now, jet-black, steam billowing around it. It moved quickly across the country side, but began to slow down as it approached the station. When it pulled into the station, Della’s group ordered themselves into a line and began to board when a conductor opened one of the doors, letting them in.

Each person passed the conductor a ticket before disappearing inside. “Where did everyone get tickets from?” Sara asked Della.

Della frowned at Sara. “They’ve had them since they arrived here,” Della said.

“Um, we don’t have tickets,” Sara said. “Do you think that we can pay later?”

Della’s face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize—that is to say, this is only for those of us heading to Marble Orchard. You’re not going there yet.”

“What do you mean?” Sara said, a dull sort of fury starting to rise through her. “We helped build the track and station.”

The man in front of Della boarded and Della stepped up onto the train steps behind him. “I know we’ll meet again,” Della said. “Goodbye, Sara and Huck.” She stepped inside the train and before Sara could react, the blank-faced conductor closed the door and the train started rolling.

“Wait!” Sara yelled. “Wait!” She took off running, desperately trying to catch the train, but the train was already picking up too much speed and Sara hit the edge of the platform before she could try and jump, causing her to tumble over the side onto the ground.

Sara pulled herself and tried to start running again, but she made it only a few steps before the futility of trying to catch a train caught up to her.

“God damn it,” Sara said angrily. She kicked hard at the ground, angrier that she remembered having been in a long time. “I helped build this track and I can’t even board the train? That’s bullshit!” She let out one long scream into the distance before she took a couple deep breaths to try and calm down.

Sara felt something scramble up her arm and stop on her shoulder. She turned to see Huck watching her patiently.

Sara closed her eyes and sighed. “So we’re just as lost as we once were.”

“Yeah,” Huck said. “We are as lost as they come. But, tomorrow we’ll go back to the river and head downstream from there.”

Sara closed her eyes and groaned. She gave herself fifteen seconds to feel really miserable before she pulled it together. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Sara said eventually.

“Plus, there’s some food in the station,” Huck said.

Despite herself, Sara was reluctantly excited to see what food Della and her friends might have left. When the two of them went inside, they found a veritable feast with the sign from outside now inside the station and bearing the words “For Sara and Huck.” There was roast chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes, sandwiches with cold cuts, cooked beans and apple pie for dessert.

Sara and Huck ate until they couldn’t eat any more and when Sara found her eyes began to close of their own volition, she found a comfortable spot and lay down. Within a few minutes, Huck curled up next to her, warm against her side, and then the two of them slept.

 

 

 

Sara woke up the next morning to the peculiar sensation of a raccoon watching her. She and Huck stared at each other as Sara blinked herself awake. “You know,” Sara said, not moving from the floor, “that’s kind of creepy.”

“Is it?” Huck asked. He didn’t sound all that convinced, just intrigued. If anything, he stared even more intently.

Sara nodded and pushed herself into a sitting position. She yawned a few times while she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Yes, definitely a creepy thing. I’m going to assume it’s not a creepy thing for raccoons.”

“Oh no, not at all,” Huck said. “Although it is a raccoon thing to try and annoy our human friends.”

“Of course it is,” Sara said as she stood up.

Sara spent a few minutes wishing that she had a change of clothes or, even better, a shower, but the station was barebones at best. The sandwiches looked to have held alright, so Sara and Huck grabbed a few sandwiches as they left the station. When they stepped outside, Sara immediately noticed that the tracks from the previous night had disappeared.

“There was—I’m not imagining—” Sara thought more about her question. It didn’t really matter, she decided. Whether or not someone had come in the middle of the night and removed all the train tracks, it didn’t make one bit of difference. It had been there and now it was not. And so Sara and Huck started heading back towards the forest.

There was an odd sense of familiarity as they walked—the leaves occasionally drifting down, the riot of colors beneath Sara’s feet. Sara almost thought that she could remember passing specific trees or rocks, although it was probably her imagination. But, unlike the previous day, Sara felt an urgency as they walked. She’d already been gone too long. She needed to reach a town, a real town, and only hoped that they weren’t far from the original town that the lumberjacks had told her and Huck about.

“Do you ever miss home?” Sara asked suddenly.

“Oh you mean back on the ranch with Ma and Pa Raccoon?” Huck said.

“No, I mean seriously,” Sara said.

There was a long silence while they walked and Sara wondered if she’d offended Huck. Eventually Huck spoke up. “I’m not sure that I have a home the way that you had a home. Sometimes I miss the forests where I used to roam, but I like finding new forests and exploring those as well.”

“I understand,” Sara said and then they both kept quiet until they caught sight of the river and turned to walk downstream.

“What about you?” Huck asked. “Do you miss your home? Your Ma and Pa Human?”

“Yes, but…” Sara said. “It’s complicated. I miss my parents but they’re always pushing me to do what they want. They want me to stay near home and get a job in town, but I’m not sure that’s what I want.”

“What do you want?” Huck asked.

Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. I used to want some things, but I don’t know if I’m cut out for them.”

Huck waited expectantly for Sara to elaborate, but when she didn’t, he gratefully let the subject drop.

Sometime around midday, when Sara was feeling warm and sweaty enough from walking that hopping into the river almost seemed like a good idea, something rustled nearby. Both Sara and Huck froze.

“What is it?” Sara said, already imagining the wolf circling around them, getting ready to pounce. “Is it another animal?”

“Shhh,” Huck said. “I can’t hear if you’re also talking.” Sara held her breath as Huck strained slightly, leaning towards the sound.

“There’s something there,” Huck said, his voice barely audible. “It’s very close.”

“Should we run?” Sara whispered back, nervously eyeing the trees in the direction of the sound.

“It does not smell like something that wants to bake us cookies and hold our hands,” Huck said. “So I’m going to say that we should….”

Before Huck could continue, a small boy stepped out from behind a large and towering oak. The boy wore light colored pants and a shirt underneath a dark blue gown. His dark hair had been neatly combed back. He looked like he had been preparing to go launch sail boats on a lake or fly a kite, not wander the woods.

“Wait,” the boy said, his voice quavering.  Instantly both Huck and Sara stopped. Sara’s eyes flickered back and forth between the boy and Huck.

“Mr. Raccoon, ma’am,” the boy said, his voice still quiet. He didn’t seem ready to say anything more than that, so Sara cleared her throat when the silence became too heavy.

“Hello,” Sara said, pitching her voice quietly. The boy looked skittish and she wasn’t altogether certain that he wouldn’t go running off.

“Hello,” the boy echoed back, hanging close to the tree. Sara wondered if he lived nearby—he had appeared so suddenly.

Sara eyed Huck, who still hadn’t said a word. “What’s your name?” Sara said eventually when it became clear that the boy wasn’t going to say anything else. “I’m Sara and this is Huck.”

The little boy ducked his head in greeting. “I’m Johnny,” he said. Johnny paused as if trying to remember something. “It’s nice to meet you Miss Sara and Mr. Huck.”

“Where are your parents?” Sara asked. Johnny shrugged. “Are they around here?” When the boy didn’t respond, Sara tried again. “Are you lost?”

“I don’t know. Not really,” the boy said. “I think I know the way home.”

Sara examined the kid. When she looked down at Huck, he had a curiously blank expression on his face.

“Can you wait right here?” Sara said. Johnny nodded once at her, his hair falling gently into his eyes. “We’ll be right back.”

Sara gestured to Huck and they walked a few steps away until Sara had a sense of some privacy. “This feels just a little bit off,” Sara said.

“Yeah, creepy and adorable kid all alone in the woods? This is setting off some serious concerns. How could he get lost if there’s nothing else nearby?” Huck said.

“But what if he is just an adorable and lost kid?” Sara said, looking back at Johnny. He was still standing there, next to the oak tree, looking miserable. Sara already felt guilty. She closed her eyes and tried to weigh the pros and cons, but it wasn’t even worth the mental energy, since she’d already decided.

“We’re going to take this kid home,” Sara said at the same time as Huck.

“He’s probably a witch’s familiar. There’s probably a witch waiting to eat us,” Huck said. That was the thing—Sara had seen lumberjacks whistle trees down and a group of people magically make a train come into being. If Huck that there was a witch waiting to eat them, then there probably was a witch waiting to eat them. And they would walk straight into it.

“Can we protect ourselves against witches?” Sara asked. Huck gave her a look. “Right, silly question.”

When Sara and Huck made it back to Johnny, he looked pretty worried. “Hey, don’t worry,” Sara said. “We’re going to make sure that you get home. Do you remember the directions to get home?”

Johnny nodded twice. “Alright,” Sara said. “Can you show us how to get to your home?”

Johnny nodded again. This time, with some prompting, he turned around and started walking. He led them away from the river and at first, he didn’t do much talking. But, as they kept going, he started asking Sara and Huck questions.

“Where did you come from?” he said.

“Um,” Sara said. “I’m from far away. But we met in a lumberjack camp.” Johnny turned and looked at Sara, his eyes wide.

“What are lumberjacks?” Johnny asked.

“They’re people who cut down trees,” Sara said. Although these ones hadn’t cut so much as whistled down, the point still remained the same.

“How did you get here?” he asked. Sara explained about the river and the raft. When she finished, Johnny was quiet for a while before he started asking about the river. Sara knew little about the river other than what she’d seen directly, but as it turned out, Huck knew a lot and started to talk about the river. With Sara, Huck had largely been laconic and snarky, but he took a softer approach to Johnny.

After they had been walking for some time, Sara realized that they’d become distracted by Johnny’s questions. She was no longer certain which direction they were walking in. The forest had also seemed to get darker—the trees were larger here and cut the sky off. Sara knew that it couldn’t have been later than mid-afternoon, but the light filtering through the trees had a distinctly twilight feel to it.

Sara was not feeling great about their decision, but she kept to it, committed. She did run through a couple emergency scenarios in the back of her mind, although she didn’t have much faith in being able to execute any of them against a witch. Who knew what witches were capable of?

Just when it began to get really-night-was-here dark, Johnny stopped suddenly and then his face lit up. “Grandmother!” he yelled and then took off running.

Sara and Huck took off after him, Huck bounding just ahead of Sara until they reached a clearing with a stream floating through it and a small house in the middle of it. It looked like the house from Sara’s fairytales: a chimney puffing little clouds of smoke, flowers and herbs planted around the house and a small path leading right up to the front door.

Johnny ran up to the door and rapped on it loudly. “Grandmother!” he said. “I’ve brought friends!”

The door opened slowly and Sara tensed, prepared to run back into the forest, until it revealed an older woman, wearing a long dress with the sleeves rolled up. Her hair had been pulled back into a loose bun, but it hadn’t sharpened the severity of her face.

“Johnny, where have you been?” the woman scolded. “I have been waiting for you for hours.”

“Sorry, Grandmother,” Johnny said, sounding as apologetic as a young boy could. “But I found some new friends. Look!” He gestured towards Sara and Huck.

The woman looked towards Sara and Huck and gave a slow smile. “Friends…” she said carefully, and the way that she sounded at the word let Sara know just exactly what she thought of friends. Sara instinctively moved to take a step back but suddenly found that her feet were completely immobilized—stuck to the ground.

“Yes,” the old woman said. “Friends. I think they should come inside and have something to eat.”

The smell of cinnamon filled the clearing and Sara found herself walking towards the house. She wanted to turn around, but her legs wouldn’t obey her, moving quickly, closer and closer to the door.

“Can I pretend to be surprised that this has turned out this way?” Huck asked. “We walked, pun fully intended, into this trap?” Sara grunted back, trying to will her legs to stop moving. She could turn her torso to the right and left, but her legs never stopped moving forward.

The front door to the house swung open when Sara and Huck arrived. Immediately, Sara smelled what could only have been freshly baked cookies, probably a ploy to get Sara and Huck to drop their guards.

“Ah, come in, come in,” the old woman said, she gave them a wide smile that sent shivers down Sara’s back. Any moment now, the woman would reveal a mouth full of shark teeth or would announce her plans to use Sara and Huck for her witchcraft.

Johnny ran up to them bearing a large plate of cookies. “Grandmother Sweet made cookies just to celebrate my new friends!” he said, beaming up at Sara. “Would you like to have some?”

Huck started reaching for the cookies. “Don’t do it,” Sara hissed.

Huck grimaced. “They just smell so good,” he said, his arm stretching out closer and closer until he picked one of the cookies off the plate and, quick as a flash, stuffed it in his mouth.

Sara watched, frozen in horror. She tensed up preemptively so that when the poison hit, she could try to act and save Huck. But then one second trickled by, then two. “Wow, that was delicious,” Huck said, his voice soft with awe. He took another cookie. “Sara, you’ve got to try this.”

After nothing appeared to happen to Huck while he stuffed his face with the cookies, Sara started eyeing the cookies. She was pretty hungry and nothing bad had happened yet…

Sara cautiously put a cookie into her mouth and was instantly rewarded by an explosion of perfect tart sweetness. “Oh, wow,” Sara said, understanding Huck’s tone. “That is amazing.”

Grandmother Sweet smiled now, looking every bit like a pleased grandmother. “Oh I’m so happy that you like them. They’re lemon cookies, but I have chocolate cookies baking in the oven right now.”

She ushered Huck and Sara over to the table, serving them water and hot tea. At this point, Sara didn’t even care if the food was poisoned, she was in heaven. When they finally were full, Huck and Johnny started rough-housing on the floor. “Ma’am, those cookies are really great,” Sara said.

“Oh please, call me Grandmother Sweet, everyone else does,” Grandmother Sweet said. “And I should really be the one thanking you.”

“What do you mean?” Sara said.

Grandmother Sweet looked over at Johnny, who was currently playing some kind of hand game with Huck. She smiled fondly at him. “Johnny gets so lonely out here. We rarely get visitors and, well, I know that an old lady is hardly fit company for a young boy like Johnny. He needs someone to play games with him and tell stories to.”

Grandmother Sweet paused. “That’s why I made you come here, so that he could have someone to play with for a little bit.”

When Grandmother Sweet had put it like that, Sara almost felt bad for wanting to not come inside. Not bad enough to risk staying, but still, a little sympathetic. “Well, you’re raising a great kid. He’s really sweet. I guess he takes after you,” she said. Grandmother Sweet brightened at that.

Eventually, sympathy or no sympathy, Sara needed to start back towards the forest. But when she stood up, Huck coughed a bit.

“Huck, are you alright?” Sara asked.

Huck cleared his throat and then paused for a few seconds. He looked almost bashful. “Actually, if it’s alright with Grandmother Sweet, I think that I’d like to stay,” he said.

Sara opened her mouth immediately and then forced herself to bite off her instinctive protest. Huck seemed to really like Johnny and he wasn’t obligated to travel with Sara, familiar companion or not. “Are you sure?” Sara asked.

Huck nodded, smiling shyly. “Yeah, I think that I’ll stay with Johnny and Grandmother Sweet for a while.” He looked over towards Grandmother Sweet, who looked beside herself with happiness.

“Oh that’s perfect!” Grandmother Sweet said excitedly. “I’ll make a pie and some biscuits to celebrate.”

 

 

 

Huck and Johnny stood just outside of the door to Grandmother Sweet’s house, waving enthusiastically. Sara waved back and tried to ignore the unease sitting in her stomach and the slight pang in her chest. As she turned around and headed into the woods, tightly holding a sack of Grandmother Sweet’s baked goods, she thought about how she was all alone again

 

 

 

A few miles out, something rustled behind Sara and Sara spun around to face the wolf. The wolf appeared to be larger than the previous time, its mane more silver and hoary than Sara remembered. The wolf bared its teeth at Sara and Sara froze completely, unable to even think about anything other than how sharp and capable the wolf’s teeth looked.

“Hello, Sara,” the wolf said. When Sara didn’t respond, it growled loudly enough to startle Sara into stepping back.

“What do you want?” Sara managed to get out eventually.

“The same thing that you want, Sara,” the wolf said.

“What do I want?” Sara asked, her voice barely audible over the loud beating of her heart.

“To get out of here,” the wolf said. And then the wolf curled its lips and bared its teeth.

Something moved beside Sara and she inadvertently looked to the side, expecting to see another wolf come to join its brethren, but there was nothing there and when she looked back, the wolf had disappeared.

Sara’s legs felt weak with relief, so she gave up on standing upright, sinking gratefully to the ground. Sara lay onto her back, leaves thick beneath her, and focused on calming down until her heart began slowly returning to its normal pace.

She stared up at the trees for a while, noticing how tall they went, the branches almost entirely divested of their leaves. Sara could have laid there forever except that a small brown and red paw came out of nowhere and stepped lightly onto her face.

“What?” Sara said, sitting up abruptly. To her left sat a regal looking fox, its burnished red coat shining in the late afternoon light. It sat, its head tilted, watching her. “Oh.”

“My dearest lady,” the fox said. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am the estimable Sal at your service.”

The feeling of dread that had been in Sara’s stomach since Grandmother Sweet’s house suddenly dropped. “Hello Sal,” she said. “I’m Sara.”

The fox dropped into a half bow, startling Sara into a laugh. “It is the highest pleasure to meet you, Sara.”

Sara stood up, dusting herself off. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” she said. “Do you happen to know where the nearest settlement is? I received directions, but I’m a bit turned around.”

Sal carefully turned around, examining the trees surrounding them. He frowned and stroked his whiskers, creating a very serious image.  When he turned back to Sara, he sighed and his whiskers drooped. “I’m afraid that I do not,” he said. “I apologize. You have looked to me in your hour of need and I have failed you.”

Sara tried not to laugh. “No, don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m pretty sure that I know the way. If you’re lost, you’re welcome to join me.”

Sal brightened up immediately. “Are you certain that I would not be imposing upon you?” Sal said.

“Definitely not,” Sara said, feeling much better about her situation than just a few minutes ago. “I would love for you to join me.”

 

 

 

The two of them headed in the direction that Huck had recommended, although Sara had her hands full trying to reign Sal in. Sal was friendly and pleasant company but he wanted to wander off, explore the forest, and it took a bit of reminding from Sara of their destination to keep him on track.

As the sun began to set, Sara noticed some heavy clouds coming in as the winds picked up. “Do you think that it’s going to rain?” Sara asked Sal.

Sal looked up at the clouds and squinted. “Those look to be standard cumulus clouds. I would gather that we should be able to continue without any threat.”

Despite Sal’s continued assurances, Sara picked up the pace, not liking the look of the clouds. The last thing that she wanted was to be stuck out in the rain without any shelter. So they continued on, walking quickly, as the sky darkened and the clouds got closer. Down in the distance, Sara saw the thin outline of a two-story wood building.

The wind took the opportunity to pick up again, almost knocking Sara’s sack out of her hands. “Ok,” Sara said. “I think we should make a break for it.” She hadn’t even finished speaking before the clouds broke open, a torrential downpour coming down immediately.

Sal began apologizing immediately, but Sara didn’t wait to hear what he said. She took off, sprinting towards the building and spared a thought to pray that the building would be open to two bedraggled visitors.

The rain came down forcefully, drenching Sara as she drew closer to the building. The rain severely hindered her visibility, and it wasn’t until Sara was almost at the entrance that she saw the large sign announcing E.L. Karlsson’s General Merchandise and Post Office. Sara knocked on the door loudly, hoping that someone was inside. By the time that Sal caught up, Sara was shivering in the cold, hoping that she wasn’t imagining the sound of heavy footsteps nearing the door.

“Hello?” someone said, a slight Scandinavian accent to their voice, opening up the door. The speaker was revealed to be a man in his mid-thirties, his light hair parted to the side, with a thick mustache. He wasn’t much taller than Sara, but he had broad shoulders and looked well acquainted with carrying heavy things. He also looked more than a little confused at Sara and Sal.

“Hi, we’re so sorry to bother you,” Sara said, her teeth chattering. “But could we possibly come inside until the store passes?”

The man looked surprised, but opened the door immediately and quickly ushered Sal and Sara inside.

“If you wait just there,” he said. “I’ll grab something to help dry you off.” He turned around and disappeared through the store. Sara took the chance to give the front room of the store a once over: it was neatly laid out and ordered into sections. There were gardening tools and some basic construction equipment in the corner, fabrics and kitchen ingredients behind a long counter, other kitchen equipment laid out neatly on shelves. Over to the left of the store, there were large sacks, piled up on top of each other.

“Here you are,” the man said, returning just as quickly. He handed Sara and Sal towels, which they used to dry themselves off to the best of their ability. Sara’s clothes were still drenched, but she didn’t see much that she could do about that.

“Um,” the man said, looking a little uncomfortable. “Would you like to come into the back? My assistant and I have a fire on and were just about to prepare some dinner for ourselves.”

“Yes,” Sara said, utterly grateful. “We would really appreciate that. I’m Sara, by the way, and this is Sal.”

The man looked surprised again. Sara began to think that the man was perpetually surprised by everything. “I’m Ernst Karlsson. Please follow me.”

Ernst led them through a door at the back of the room which led to a large sitting room with a small table and set of chairs in the far corner. There was a fire, already nice and warm, crackling in the corner fireplace and after an approving nod from Ernst, Sara sat herself in the chair nearest to the fireplace and Sal sat in front of the fire to maximize the warmth.

A young man entered the room from a hallway leading out the side. This man was about Sara’s age and taller than Ernst, but lanky where Ernst was broad.

“Oh, hello!” the man said, good-humor evident in his voice. “You must be the visitors. I’m Harold Bertrand, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Sara and Sal stood up to shake his hand. “I’m Sara, this is Sal,” Sara said. “Thank you so much for your hospitality.”

Harold smiled widely at them. “Of course! Besides, it’s not really my hospitality, but Ernst’s. I live farther away, but Ernst insist that I stay for the evening due to the sudden storm.” He took a quick look at the two of them and grimaced. “I see that you weren’t so lucky. Would you like a change of clothes? I’m sure that we could get one. Ernst—do you have anything that our guest could wear while her outfit dried?”

Sara shook her head. “Thank you so much for the offer, but everything’s drying already. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

But Harold refused to take no for an answer and got the quiet Ernst to find a shirt and loose drawers for Sara to wear while her shirt, pants, socks and shoes dried by the fire.

“We feel terrible for imposing,” Sal said, after Sara changed and the four of them sat around the sitting room. Harold had even brought over some fresh tea and it was warming even the farthest, coldest parts of Sara up.

“Yeah,” Sara agreed. “You guys are amazing. Really fantastic. I’m afraid that we don’t have any money, is there anything else that we can do to help?”

Ernst started to decline but Harold beat him to the punch. “Actually, for such an evening amongst such good friends, new and old, all that we’re missing is a bit of entertainment.”

Sara looked down at Sal. Sal looked at Sara. He shrugged. Sara thought for a few moments about what skills she could bring to the table.

“Well, I’m a bit out of practice,” Sara said. “But I could do some cheers for you?”

Harold looked delighted. “Yes! We’ll await your performance after dinner eagerly.”

Sara looked over at Ernst to see his reaction, but he was looking at Harold instead, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

 

 

 

As they sat around the fire, warming up, Harold told Sara and Sal about Ernst’s business.

“Oh, he wouldn’t say anything,” Harold said, proudly. “But, Ernst is very successful in his store and he’s been the postmaster for the last five years.

Ernst shook his head emphatically. “No, no. The store is successful because of the quality work that Harold does—I would not be able to operate the store without him.”

Harold blushed at Ernst’s words and briefly looked down. “Ernst is being too modest, as always.” Harold met Ernst’s eyes for a moment and turned a deeper shade of red before he looked back towards Sara. Sara looked down at Sal, who met her eyes, and raised his eyebrows.

When Ernst stood up to finish cooking, Sara stood up and offered to help. Ernst frowned but nodded and Sara followed him out of the sitting room into the kitchen.

The kitchen was small, but orderly. In the far corner sat a coal stove, on top of which sat one large crockpot and a quart pan. When Ernst opened up the lid of the crockpot, Sara caught the heavenly smell of beef, onions and garlic.

“Wow, that smells amazing,” Sara said.

Ernst gave Sara a small smile. “I try to do the best that I can—I’ve been a bachelor for too many years but I’ve yet to learn more than a few dishes.”

“Well,” Sara said. “I can barely bring water to a boil, so you’re better off than I am. Can I help with anything?”

Ernst directed Sara to take out the potatoes, which she did, before plating them in a large bowl. Ernst began preparing the beef dish, which turned out to also include carrots and celery, and then managed to produce some bread to go along with everything else.

“How long has Harold been your assistant?” Sara asked Ernst once she had finished with the potatoes.

 

Ernst stiffened at that. “For a few years now,” he said. “Harold’s not from around here. He’s from up North, but he decided to strike out on his own a few years ago. I was in desperate need of an assistant and offered him a job. I have been eternally grateful that he accepted.”

 “Well, it seems like he really enjoys your company,” Sara said and then paused, trying to decide if this was something that she should be getting involved in.

 But then Ernst turned around, a hopeful and open look on his face, completely at odds with his previous stoicism. “Do you think so?” he said.

 Sara nodded quickly. “Of course—even I can tell just how highly he regards you.”

 Ernst chewed on his lip for a few seconds. “I just—it’s only that—I don’t want him to…” he said.

 “Leave?” Sara guessed. The beef was now forgotten in the crockpot. Sara spared a thought to hope that it wouldn’t overcook.

Ernst nodded. “Yes, leave.”

Sara gave Ernst a smile. “I definitely don’t think he wants to leave. I think that he clearly likes being here, with you.”

“He’s a very polite person,” Ernst said.

“Yes,” Sara said, agreeing. “But he’s more than polite with you.” Sara decided to take a gamble. “How you feel about him is how he feels about you.”

 Ernst frowned. “You can’t know that.”

 Sara shrugged. “It’s cool either way, but he definitely looks at you in the same way as you look at him.”

 Ernst didn’t say anything for a few minutes and then abruptly turned back to the crockpot. “Can you help set the table?” he said. Sara took the request for the convenient excuse that it was and started taking the silverware and plates back into the sitting room.

 During dinner, Harold was the same as he had ever been, but Sara saw Ernst watching Harold even more closely than he had earlier that afternoon. Ernst sat close to Harold when Sara brushed up her rusty high school cheering skills, but Sara couldn't tell if that was any different than normal.

 

 

 

When they finally wound down for the night, Sara graciously accepted a pair of pajamas and insisted on taking the couch, rather than a bed. After some consternation, both Ernst and Harold accepted it and wished her a good night. So, Sara settled down on the small sofa, her feet hanging off the edge of it. Sal jumped up onto the sofa, wedging himself between Sara and the couch and bringing a welcome source of heat against Sara’s back. She heard Harold and Ernst moving just above Sara and Sal, the ceiling boards creaking under every step.

“Oh, I apologize—” Sara heard Ernst say. “I did not mean to disturb you.”

“No, you weren’t disturbing me,” Harold said.

There was a long pause before Ernst started speaking. “I wanted to tell you just how much I like having you here.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere else,” Harold said quietly.

“Are you certain?” Ernst said.

“I have never been more certain,” Harold said. Ernst said something, but it was too quiet for Sara to make out.

Sara fell asleep with a smile on her face.

 

 

 

The next morning, nothing seemed all that different—Ernst remained quiet to Harold’s smiles and conversation—but Sara caught them holding hands when she entered the kitchen to ask a question. They quickly dropped hands, but the corners of Ernst’s mouth stayed upturned, just the same.

After a hearty breakfast of porridge, Sara and Sal got ready to head back on the road.

“We’d like to give you this,” Harold said, presenting Sara with a down jacket.

“I couldn’t possibly accept this,” Sara said.

“Please, take it,” Ernst said. “What you said yesterday…I really appreciate it.” And what else could Sara say to that? Gratefully, Sara took the jacket and put it on.

“Thank you both for your gracious hospitality,” Sal said. “We are forever indebted to you.” And with that, Sal and Sara waved goodbye and headed back into the woods.

 

 

 

 

 

Sara could have sworn that they’d walked past this set of trees before. “Doesn’t this look familiar to you?” Sara said to Sal.

Sal paused, his whiskers twitching. “These smells are quite familiar, but I feel certain that we are headed in the right direction.”

 Sara repressed a sigh. “You said that last time,” she said, “and it led us back in a circle.”

 Sal frowned. “Yes, but this follows the exact directions that Ernst and Harold gave to us.”

 “I don’t think that they meant for us to keep wandering around and around,” Sara said. She closed her eyes and pulled her jacket just a little closer, wishing that she also had a sweatshirt. “Fine, let’s just keep moving.”

 They continued on, through the woods.

 

 

 

Sara lost track of time—after a while, the trees all seemed to blend into each other. The light weakly came through the cloud cover and seemed to dull all of Sara’s senses. It was with an abstract interest that she saw the silver and white tail in front of her on the ground. Sara didn’t feel inclined to stop though, and she watched her foot step down on top of it.

All of a sudden, the wolf sprang up, a loud roar echoing through the forest and finally waking Sara up from her stupor.

“Run!” Sara yelled to Sal. “Run!” Sara immediately turned and ran.

“Wait, Sara!” the wolf yelled from behind Sara. “I want—I need to talk to you!” But Sara didn’t want to wait and find out if what the wolf wanted was Sal and Sara sandwiches for dinner.

Sal quickly caught up with Sara and they ran until they were both out of breath and the wolf no longer appeared to be on their tail. They stopped, panting, until they managed to catch their breath.

“What horrible beast was that?” Sal said, gasping as he slumped on the ground. Sara was no better off, clutching her side and leaning against a tree.

“A wolf,” Sara said.

Sal gave her a look. “Shockingly, I gathered as much,” he said. “But it obviously knew you. And it could have easily eaten us as hors d’oeuvres. It does beg the question of why.”

Sara sighed. That had been puzzling—she’d never stopped to think about why the wolf was following her. She had previously assumed that it had been because she was easy prey, but Sal was right. She was more than easy prey—if the wolf had wanted to eat her, it could have.

“I don’t know,” Sara said. “And right now, I don’t really care. We’ve gotten away for now so let’s keep moving.”

Sal looked a little uncertain. “Are you sure? Maybe we should think about it a little—”

“Yes,” Sara said firmly. “I’m certain. I’m going—are you coming too?” And without waiting for Sal’s response, Sara started walking again.

 

 

 

When Sara had graduated from college, she had expected everything to feel different. After all, she had worked towards graduating college in one form or another since before she could remember. And finally, after years of school and tests and essays, she had done it. Except, nothing had really changed.

Sara had received an impressive looking diploma and an all-expenses paid trip back to her parents’ house while she looked for jobs.

“Sara,” her mom had said, that first day back. “You know that we’re so proud of you and your degree, but have you thought about what you’re going to do next? It’s time to find a real job.”

“Mom, journalism is a real job,” Sara had said. “Providing people with news is important. I want to be the one out there, delivering it to them.”

“I know, honey,” her mom had said. “But maybe that’s something to think about later. Maybe you should focus on getting a job around here first.”

Sara had almost bit her tongue holding back her comments. She didn’t want to live where she’d always lived. At her parents’ urging, she’d attended state school only an hour away. All Sara had ever wanted to do was get out there and see the world. She had wanted to make a difference.

But Sara’s parents couldn’t quite understand that, so as the weeks had gone by, she’d found herself applying to a couple of newspapers that weren’t too far away. Yeah, so they weren’t on the West Coast or Chicago, like she’d dreamed of visiting, but her mom had looked delighted when Sara had told her about it. That was something.

It had been weird being back home—there was a finality to arriving back home that hadn’t existed for the previous holidays and summer vacations. Sara couldn’t help but compare herself to her friends, both old and new. Her friends from home had been delighted that Sara was back, potentially permanently, but most of them had stayed local for school as well, if they’d gone. 

Sara’s newer friends, from college, had started taking the steps that Sara thought she would be taking. Rochelle, Vivian and Mike had already gotten jobs in New York City. Jenna was moving down to Pittsburgh to take a job with a small book publisher and Brian had left just after graduation for San Francisco where his brother worked for a computer company. Only Sara had retreated. Hadn’t she used to be fearless once upon a time?

On the night before the fourth of July, Sara had gone out with a group of her high school friends for drinks. It had actually been a pretty good time—Jason Funderberker had been back in town visiting Kelley, his girlfriend, for the weekend and what felt like half their class had showed up at Rich’s Tavern to catch up.

Sara had stayed later than she’d anticipated, catching up with Wirt who had also been home for the holiday. When Sara had realized just had late it had become, she’d given Wirt a hug goodbye and then headed out, hoping that her parents had turned in instead of waiting up for her.

Just near the Eternal Garden Cemetery, Sara had started crossing the street when she’d heard something rustling nearby. Sara had stopped and turned around, catching a glimpse of silver through the trees. She’d stood there, peering into the trees and trying to catch a glimpse. Whatever Sara had originally seen, it hadn’t felt inclined to reveal itself, so Sara turned back around in order to finish crossing the street.

Or at least that was what Sara had intended to do. But instead, there’d been a car, moving quickly down the road towards Sara. There had been something that Sara needed to do—something that she had forgotten. And as the car got closer and closer, Sara had tried to remember what it was. And then, just as the car stood a few meters away, Sara’s body and brain had remembered what it was in a horrified unison: getting out of the car’s way.

 

 

 

 

“You know, I think that we should just sleep here tonight,” Sara said to Sal. There was plenty of dry and comfortable-looking space near the large oak’s roots.

“Are you certain?” Sal asked. “I think that we have an excellent chance of finding a town or covered lodgings this evening.”

Sara shrugged. “Why?” she asked. “Maybe we’ll find some place and maybe we won’t. Might as well just take this spot here.” Sara refrained from pointing out that Sal was the one who should have been less invested about their room options.

Sara slept fitfully that night—she woke up a few times, convinced that the wolf was watching her. But each time, there was only the empty night sky and Sal, curled up against Sara’s side. Morning came with a relieved welcome even though Sara felt more tired than when she’d gone to bed. Sal refrained from saying anything when Sara was more snappish than usual.

If Sara had been hoping for a respite, in one form or the other, it was the wrong day to wish for it. By midday, they’d had two sightings of the wolf.

“This is, frankly, ridiculous,” Sal said when they had to sprint away from the wolf for the fourth time. “You need to talk to him.”

“No!” Sara said more forcefully than she’d intended. “I do not want to talk to that wolf. I don’t want to deal with him. Stop telling me to!”

Sal came to a halt, forcing Sara to stop as well. “What are you doing?” Sara asked.

“I am stopping,” Sal said. “I do not mind wandering, but I do not want to be always running away.”

Sara opened her mouth and then shut it abruptly, setting her jaw. “Fine,” she said eventually. “You can stay here. I’m going.” Sara didn’t wait for Sal; she turned around and kept walking.

Fine, Sara thought. Sal could do whatever he wanted to do. If he wanted to be eaten by a wolf, that was his problem. Sara hadn’t gotten more than a hundred yards away when the guilt overtook her anger. This wasn’t Sara—she didn’t leave friends behind.

So Sara sighed and turned right back around to walk back towards Sal.

“Sara,” someone said, softly, in a voice that Sara knew, from far away. Sara turned around. There, standing about five feet away, was Wirt. But it wasn’t the same Wirt as the one from back home. This Wirt was younger, still clean-shaven, bangs sticking out awkwardly on his forehead, and wearing a large conical hat and cape.

“Wirt?” Sara said.

“Sara!” someone else said and then Greg popped out from behind a nearby tree. Or, well, Sara thought it was Greg. The last time that she’d seen Greg, he’d been almost eleven years old. This Greg was much younger. Maybe not more than five or six years old. “Wirt, it’s Sara! Sara’s also here!”

“Hey Greg,” Sara said slowly. “It’s good to see you as well. Wirt, what’s going on here?”

Wirt shifted awkwardly. “It’s kind of hard to explain,” he said. Greg had taken off running in the area around them, holding his frog underneath his arm.

“Did you get lost too?” Sara asked, keeping an eye on Greg.

“Yes, in a sense,” Wirt said. “Lost isn’t really the right word, but we were lost in the same way that you’re lost now.”

“Why do you look so different?” Sara said. “I don’t think I’m imagining it.”

Wirt gave her a half-smile. “That’s part of the complication. We’re not really here—Greg and I left the Unknown a long time ago and returned home. But, a little part of us remained. That’s why we’re here now. It’s kind of like looking into bright lights—even after you look away, you can still see the after-image.”

“The Unknown?” Sara said. She saw that Sal had crept back into the woods and felt marginally better, although guiltier.

“Yeah,” Wirt said. He gave her one of those smiles that used to make her go weak at the knees. Sara couldn’t help but find it reassuring. “That’s where we are right now. The Unknown. See, it’s easy to get lost here—Greg and I once did. The hard part is getting home.”

“How do I get home?” Sara asked.

“By getting home!” Greg shouted. “And that’s a rock fact!”

“Greg!” Wirt said. “Sorry, ignore Greg, he’s not very helpful. I don’t know how you’ll get home. Only you will really know it. But there’s something keeping you here and only you know how to defeat it.”

“What if I can’t defeat it?” Sara said. “What if the only way home is through a giant monster that is going to eat me?”

Wirt looked at her, his face serious. “It’s not always the visible monsters that you should worry about. Don’t dismiss your inner monsters. Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean that they can’t eat you.”

And then before Sara could say anything, Wirt called out for Greg, who—semi-miraculously—came when called and held Wirt’s hand. “Good luck,” Wirt said.

“Yeah! Good luck!” Greg said. “Jason Funderberker wishes you good luck too!” And before Sara could suss that one out, Wirt and Greg were gone.

Sara stood, watching the spot that they’d been in until she was sure that they weren’t coming back. Sal crept into Sara’s vision, waiting until Sara was ready to talk again. “Thanks for coming back,” Sara said to Sal. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s alright,” Sal said. “I am glad you came back too.”

 

 

 

This time, Sara and Sal sat down and waited for the wolf to come to them. “What are you going to do when you get home?” Sal asked.

“I’m going to do what I really want to do,” Sara said. Her teeth were chattering in the cold, making it hard to speak. “And talk to my parents. Probably fight with them.”

Sal gave a murmur of assent.

“Thanks, Sal,” Sara said.

“It is I who should thank you,” Sal said.

 

 

 

When the wolf showed up, it looked sad and lean as it settled down beside Sara. Sara held herself very still and reminded herself that if the wolf wanted to eat her, it would have already.

“Do you want to go home?” Sara asked the wolf.

The wolf looked at Sara for a long time. “Yes,” it said. The wolf then laid its head on Sara’s leg.

 

 

 

 

There was a blur of red lights and people speaking loudly when Sara opened her eyes. Everything hurt, especially her legs, and each breath felt like Sara had to force it down her throat. A woman was giving directions to the people around Sara and she knew that they looked familiar, but she couldn’t place them.

“Sara, Sara,” the woman said, but Sara could only focus on the large gray mutt sitting just a few feet away from Sara, on the side of the road. Sara knew without a doubt that it was the wolf when it looked up and met her eyes. It was holding its paw precariously and the dog kept licking its paw and making small whimpers. No one else had seemed to notice it.

“Sara, we’re taking you to the hospital,” the woman said.

“Wait!” Sara said and the woman stopped. “That dog needs to come with me. It’s hurt.”

“I’m afraid that we can’t have that in the truck,” the woman said.

“No,” Sara said and started trying to get up. A whole bunch of people started talking at once but Sara tried to ignore them.

“Ok, ok,” the woman said. “The dog can come—we’ll take care of it—just please stop moving.” A young man went over towards the dog and carefully picked the dog up to carry it to the ambulance. The dog gave a small growl and whimper at his approach but seemed to submit the his handling. When Sara was certain that the dog was inside she relaxed and let the paramedics lift her up.

 

 

 

“You’re very lucky,” Dr. Backwell said.

Sara stared at him. She gave a sideways look to the IV drip. “I’m not sure we have the same definition of lucky.”

Dr. Backwell smiled. “You have a fracture in your left foot and will have to wear a cast and crutches, but otherwise, you just have bruising. Considering the fact that you were hit by a car, that is very lucky.”

Sara looked over at her mom and dad, both of them standing next to her bed, their faces drawn tightly with worry. On the opposite side of the room, near the window, Wolf lay on the floor. Sara had decided to name it while she had been undergoing her x-rays, still feeling the good effects from whatever painkillers that they’d put her on, and Wolf had seemed appropriate. When she’d been finally placed in a hospital room, Wolf was already there, paw bandaged up and thumping her tail gracelessly.

Sara gave Dr. Blackwell a smile. “No, I know. I’m very lucky. Thank you, Dr. Backwell.”

When Dr. Backwell left, Sara turned to her parents. “I’m sorry for worrying you guys.”

Sara’s mom took Sara’s hand in hers. “We’re just glad that you’re okay, honey.”

“Me too,” Sara said. “I am really sorry.” She paused for a second and tried to gather her thoughts. “Mom, Dad, there’s something that I need to tell you about.”

They both looked at her expectantly. Sara took a deep breath. “I’m going to start applying for jobs in New York and Boston. Maybe even San Francisco.” Wolf looked up from where it lay in the corner.

Sara’s mom drew in a small breath and Sara saw her dad squeeze her mom’s hand tightly. “Are you sure that you want to do that right now? Shouldn’t you maybe focus on something more local and then take it from there. Especially now that you need to heal,” Sara’s dad said.

Sara shook her head. “Nope. I’m sorry, but I need to do this now. This is what I want to do.”

“But,” Sara’s mom said. “What if something happens? Like tonight.”

Sara smiled. “I’ll have Wolf with me.”

“Wolf?” Sara’s dad said. Sara looked over towards Wolf who sat up and stared back at the family. Sara’s dad gave a half laugh. “You make friends everywhere you go…” he said, giving Sara a wry smile. “You know that we just want you to be happy. We’ll support you no matter what.”

Sara motioned for a hug and her parents brought it in, their arms encircling Sara. “I know. I love you guys.”

Sara’s mom pressed closer. “We love you too, honey.”

 

 

 

At the end of August, Sara found a job as an editorial assistant for a publishing firm in Providence. When Sara’s parents finished helping her pack-up the car, they each gave her a big hug. It felt like an old goodbye and a new hello at once.

After Sara backed out of the drive way and turned onto the street, she took a deep breath. In the passenger seat, Wolf looked over at the noise. “It’s alright,” Sara told Wolf. “I’m scared, but I’m ready to face the unknown.”


End file.
